You Live, You Learn
by Technicolor
Summary: Ginny is torn between two people. Can she overcome any doubts and choose the right man?
1. Aboard the Hogwarts Express

A/N: I had a bomb of a fic before this, I won't remind anyone of it, but I'm seriously hoping this goes over better. Angst really isn't my thing, so if you're looking for some seriously moody work, this might not be the best place to start. Also, I'm looking for a possible beta reader. I've never used one before, but everyone raves about them. If you're interested, email me at or just review (.  
  
Another Note: I go by book descriptions, not movie. I don't even acknowledge any movie information in my stories.  
  
Pairings: Primarily H/G, but will have bits of R/Hr. These are my primary pairings because they just feel right to me. Don't like it? Sorry.  
  
Disclaimer: I think it's pretty clear that I am not J.K. Rowling, hence I don't own anything in this story. It's all a part of her wonderful work.  
  
Ginny glanced at her shoelaces. She had been aboard the Hogwarts Express for what seemed like an eternity and was starting to feel the familiar pins and needles in her leg. The roast beef sandwich her mother had packed her was long gone and her stomach was rumbling. Fumbling in the pockets of her jeans, she pulled up nothing but bits of lint and a hairpin. Although the feeling of empty pockets when searching for sickles wasn't unfamiliar, it certainly hadn't become any more pleasant. She was tempted to go find Ron and as him if he had any money, but she simply lacked the motivation. The prospect of chocolate frogs wasn't the most desirable idea anyway, and she hated to waste money. Being a Weasley meant learning to be frugal.  
  
Taking out a pocket mirror, she inspected her face. She looked a bit pale, but nothing spectacularly out of the ordinary. She saw a loose curl and reached for the hairpin. She tucked a piece of red-gold hair behind her ear and her reflection nodded in satisfaction. Her hair had gotten much curlier in recent years, and while it wasn't easy to manage, it suited her. She was not ashamed of her freckles anymore, especially since she had seen Mairéad Donahue on the cover of Witch Weekly. Mairéad was the lead singer of a popular band, Fiery Dawn, and she was beautiful even with her freckles.  
  
Her eyelids grew heavier as she stared at the raindrops hitting the window without any sort of pattern, causing a spiderweb of droplets. The tracks began to him a sort of lullaby and she rested her head against the wall and let herself slide into relaxation. She was beginning to doze off when she was startled by something that strongly resembled a dull roar. Jarring her eyes open, she saw that Seamus, her compartment mate, was snoring and swatting his arms around every which way. Giving him a light tap with her foot, he curled back up into a ball and stopped the snoring almost immediately.  
  
Ginny and Seamus had been "dating" (she was hesitant to use the term, since all they really did was snog) since the middle of July, when they had run into each other at a Weird Sister's concert in London. He was rather good looking, even if he was less than an intellectual challenge. Ginny wasn't a stranger to male attention, nor was she particularly shy these days (she did have seven brothers), so it seemed natural to give it a go. He was no soul mate, that was for sure, but he was quite good at snogging and he treated Ginny very well. Money didn't seem to be much of an obstacle for the Finnigans and he had even bought her a lovely charm bracelet for their one month anniversary. For every day they were together, it added a tiny heart onto the oval silver charm. All the activity with the Order that she was unable to participate in had left her feeling exasperated and even the tiniest bit abandoned. A boyfriend seemed to come at just the right time. The fact that he was staying with a cousin in London, as opposed to with his family in Ireland, brightened her summer holiday and took her mind off the war at hand. His parents had started to support Dumbledore after the Prophet printed the widespread news of Voldemort's return. There didn't seem to be anything in the way of having a healthy, happy relationship.  
  
At this particular moment, however, she felt very stifled. She was sitting in a stuffy compartment away from her brother and her friends in favor of her drowsy boyfriend and his best friend Dean, who had disappeared somewhere earlier. Tapping her fingernails against the window and thinking of her boredom, she hardly noticed the door to her compartment slide open.  
  
"Ginny?" a rather deep voice inquired. She whipped around to face the speaker, the slightest hint of pink creeping up into her cheeks.  
  
Harry Potter stood in the doorway, looking just as good (and just as untouchable) as he had all summer at Grimmauld Place.  
  
"Oh, Harry. It's you," she said. It didn't come out quite as smoothly as she had hoped, but it was nowhere near the anxious stammer she had embarrassed herself with four years ago.  
  
"I just came to tell you to get your robes on, but I see you've already changed," he said as he began to slide the compartment door shut.  
  
"No, don't go. I know you want to get back to Ron and Hermione, but I don't have anyone to talk to and I'm absolutely dying in here. Would you mind staying for just a minute longer?" She was surprised at the confidence in her voice.  
  
"Sure," he said, "Why not? I except Ron might want some alone time with 'Mione anyway, seeing as how he has finally told her that he fancies her." Harry wiggled his eyebrows suggestively.  
  
They went on to chat about all different things, specifically how Ginny wanted to try out for Angelina's chaser spot now that she had graduated. She confessed that she thought Harry would make a fabulous captain and steer the team to victory, even through Ron's abysmal job as keeper. They talked about the Order, carefully avoiding the topic of Sirius altogether. Ginny had become a skilled conversationalist and made sure to steer the conversation away from the topic of his godfather's death. She doubted he really wanted to open up to her of all people, specifically in a train compartment on the way to Hogwarts with her boyfriend, one of the people who had doubted Harry initially.  
  
She thought back to her memory of him at age 13. He was very cute then, but nothing on what he was now. His face had become more angular, and he was slightly more muscular. Once a scrawny boy, always somewhat of a scrawny boy, she thought, but she couldn't imagine him any other way.  
  
It was the first time in her recollection that she had really talked to Harry, not just added something in a conversation he'd been having with Ron or Hermione. There was no tension over their heads, no expectations to be met. Just friendliness. It felt nice to be friendly.  
  
"So how are things with Seamus?" Harry asked, nodding over to a sleeping Finnigan.  
  
Ginny hesitated, "Things are... good. As good as I expected them to be, anyway." She didn't want Harry to know that she had become tired of the relationship. Although the reason wasn't quite clear, she wanted him to think she was perfectly happy.  
  
"As good as you expected?" he inquired, gently prodding for a little more information. Ginny was secretly a bit flattered that he was so interested in her relationship.  
  
'Well, he wasn't the person I had been hoping to be with, but he's turned out to be..." her voice drifted off in spite of herself. Harry had his gaze fixed on her, waiting for her to complete the thought. Neither of them spoke for a moment.  
  
"Who were you waiting for, Ginny?" he asked in a voice so low, it was almost a whisper. The moment was an eggshell, delicate and breakable. Even a loud noise might cause it to shatter into a million pieces, scattered all about.  
  
For a second (which seemed like an eternity) they just looked at one another, their faces slowly gliding nearer, until she could almost count his eyelashes. His hand was moving towards hers, wanting to hold it and be closer to her. She fixed her knees to face his and in the process felt the warmth of his body. Their fingertips grazed, causing her to shiver slightly. She couldn't take it anymore. Her body wanted to press against his, her mouth to explore him, show him all the things she'd learned...  
  
As if calculation the worst possibly moment, Seamus sat upright and said, "Harry, is that you? Good to see you again."  
  
Harry dropped his hands to his side and whipped around to face forward. He looked like a kid who got caught with his hand in the cookie jar. He looked down towards the floor, saying silent prayers that Seamus didn't pick up on anything. He knew quite well the circumstances he was in and the trouble that would instantly follow if he didn't behave himself.  
  
Ginny's face drained and twisted into a look of sheer horror. She was sure they had been about to kiss, something she had been waiting for since she was a little girl, and her stupid boyfriend had managed to ruin it all. She could barely hide the lines of contempt slowly appearing in her expression.  
  
"Harry was just keeping me company while you slept," she said, jerking her knees towards the window. She didn't feel like explaining anything. She didn't feel she had to. So what if she had almost snogged the boy of her dreams in front of her sleeping boyfriend? The thoughts felt foreign in her brain, as if she knew it were wrong to think them right away, but simply didn't care. She would have kissed Harry right now, right in front of Seamus, if he wasn't having a staring contest with floor.  
  
Harry wasn't stupid. He knew he had felt something wrong towards his roommate's girlfriend and his best friend's sister. Happiness wasn't the word he was looking for to describe the course of action that might have taken place had Seamus not stirred at the exact moment he did.  
  
Seamus rattled on about how this quidditch team was or how great this wizarding magazine was, all without realizing that neither Harry nor Ginny were paying even the slightest bit of attention to him mindless babble. Clearly, he had opened his eyes a second after he had risen, giving them both time to jam their fingers in the pockets and resume the 'at ease' position. The bracelet on her wrist seemed to feel very tight and uncomfortable.  
  
"I've got to head back to my compartment and get my, er, hat," mumbled Harry as soon as he could manage a word in edgewise. Seamus didn't seem bothered by his presence, but Ginny was still shifting uncomfortably. He waved goodbye to Seamus and mouthed something to Ginny, something she couldn't make out clearly. For once in her life, she was glad to see him go. 


	2. The Aftermath

A/N: Ok, this may be the last chapter for two weeks, because I am going on two separate trips (neither of which was planned more than a month in advance). I should be back no later than the 25th. However, I may be able to update on a computer at my aunt's house in Georgia, so we'll see ï.  
  
Disclaimer: All characters belong to JKR. Not to me.  
  
"So what caused the change from Dean to Seamus?" Hermione asked while leafing through a copy of 75 Useful Defense Charms. Ever the talented multi-tasker, she was easily able to read about a spell which caused one's feet to become fixed to the ground and listed to Ginny talk about her current boyfriend.  
  
"Oh, I don't know," Ginny began, biting a nail, "Dean just didn't seem all that interesting anymore. I s'pose we just didn't share enough interests."  
  
"I see. Seamus is undoubtedly better, am I right?"   
  
"Yeah, I guess so," Ginny said, unusually unenthusiastic.   
  
"You guess so?"  
  
"Well yes, I mean... he's better than Dean or Michael but... Oh I don't know..." Ginny stared into the fire, brows furrowed.  
  
"Ginny, are you not telling me something?" Hermione was one of the most clever witches to enter Hogwarts. Did Ginny honestly think that she could be fooled so easily into thinking that she was happy?  
  
"Can you promise to keep a secret?"  
  
"Of course, Gin you know me..."  
  
"Well, today on the train—"She was interrupted by Ron and Harry bursting in to the common room, disturbing the peace and quiet of the fire's crackling and the turning of pages. Hermione looked at her expectantly, but Ginny didn't have the time to make any explanations.  
  
Ron's arms were full of sweets. He was somehow balancing plates of assorted cakes, pies, cookies, and pudding, all while dangling a spoon and fork out of his mouth. Harry had only two bowls of pudding and a brownie and looked just as pleased.   
  
"'Ewo, 'Mione, woo you like some cake?" he managed to utter, choking a bit on the last word. Ginny was about to protest that her dearest brother didn't care whether or not she would like a helping of elderberry pie, but she decided not to interrupt his moment of being sweet with Hermione. He tried to set the plates on an end table gracefully, but two plates of Black Forest cake came clattering down, spreading moist fudge all over the maroon carpet. Scourgify, Hermione muttered looking exasperated.  
  
"No Ron, I wouldn't. Must you always make so much noise?"  
  
"Well, you try balancing eleven plates gracefully!" he cried indignantly.  
  
"Why are you even stealing eleven plates worth of food anyway? Those poor house elves must be so overworked. How could you be so—"  
  
"The only reason I took half this stuff is because you mentioned you were hungry a bit earlier! I wasn't sure which you'd prefer..."  
  
Hermione let out a small gasp, which Ginny recognized as a realization of how thoughtful Ron could be.  
  
"... I was sure you mention that Pumpkin Tarts were your favorite, but I couldn't be sure, so I just HAD to—"  
  
Ron clearly didn't understand that the noise Hermione made wasn't a grunt of frustration, but a sigh of appreciation. Ginny kicked him swiftly in the shins.   
  
"Pumpkin tarts are my favorite," Hermione said with emotion, "You know, I think I saved the copy of Quidditch Quarterly with the Cannons on the front. D'you want to come help me search for it upstairs?"  
  
The likelihood of Hermione having any copy of Quidditch Quarterly was slim to none, but neither of them seemed to mind. They both had that goofy-happy expression on their faces as Hermione grabbed his hand and held it all the way up the stairs, but not before standing on her tippy toes to plant a kiss on his cheek. Ron looked nervous as they went up the stairs, half expecting them to turn into the slippery slope they had the last time he had tried to gain access to her dorm. They didn't. When a girl takes someone by the hand and holds it all the way up, the stairs behave themselves and allow males to pass.  
  
It wasn't until the pleasure of seeing the two together wore off that Ginny realized she was alone in the Gryffindor common room with Harry. All at once she felt a wave of awkwardness wash over her. Her t-shirt seemed too ill-fitting and her hair felt out of place. Compulsively, she felt it to make sure it's in place, trying to distract herself from the handsome boy—no, man—in front of her.   
  
"About the train, Gin..."  
  
"Don't," she said shortly, "I feel horrible about it, so maybe it would be better if we didn't talk about it."  
  
"Why do you feel horrible?"  
  
"Because my boyfriend was right there and... I just don't want to talk about it, okay?" She shifted uncomfortable in her chair.  
  
"Well I don't feel great about it either," Harry said smiling, "If Ron knew I almost—"  
  
"You almost what?" she asked hotly. Suddenly, she felt overcome with anger. Didn't he care that she didn't want to talk about it? That he was making her uncomfortable? She looked down at the feeling of sharp pain in her fingers only to see that they were clenched so tightly, they had turned completely white.  
  
"We almost—I don't know. Didn't you feel anything?"  
  
She was afraid to admit that maybe she had. It had been so much simpler when she just had a crush on Harry and admired him from afar. Saying her feelings out loud seemed so horribly wrong. Maybe she just wanted to keep this little love of hers a secret?  
  
"Um, no. Not really," she lied. As soon as the words left her lips she wanted to suck them back in again.   
  
"Oh. Well in that case, then maybe nothing happened at all" He looked incensed. His green eyes burned with anger, so much so that she was nearly afraid to look directly at him. Hurting him wasn't at all what she set out to do. She simply wanted to forget that it had ever happened, and denying was just the easiest way. No harm, no foul.  
  
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Harry's vision blurred. He had never felt so humiliated. Until that moment, he hadn't even been sure that he liked her. He still wasn't, really. Maybe he was just feeling angry that she didn't want him, for no other reason than that. Had he really expected her to wait around like some sort of puppy dog while he was off fighting evil since his second year? Even last year, he assumed that she was only dating Michael as a sort of distraction. Now he could see that she hadn't waited. She'd had no reason to. When had he ever shown interest? He even went so far as to tell her to leave when she wanted to help fight Voldemort at the Ministry of Magic. He had no reason to think that she would like him.  
  
And yet he did think she liked him. No, maybe he hoped. Either way, she had proven him wrong.  
  
He splashed some water on his face and combed his hair. Oh Harry, you really are looking mighty fine, he thought to himself sarcastically. Ever since Sirius had... passed, he looked almost hollow. Voldemort had taken the last thing he really loved. The bags under his eyes told the whole story.  
  
He crept quietly into bed, not even noticing Ron coming in a moment or two later. Only when Ron started whistling "Head Over Feet" did he even notice notice his presence.  
  
"Ron?" Harry asked almost incredulously. In their 6 years of friendship, he had never once heard Ron whistle. Now he was whistling as if he never wanted to stop.  
  
"Harry, I'm floating on a cloud..." he replied as he twirled in a circle before falling face down on his bed. Love could do many things, but it couldn't turn someone as clumsy as Ron into a ballet dancer. Not overnight, anyway.  
  
Ordinarily, Harry would have asked him how it was with Hermione, if he had a good time, etc., but he was in far to bad of a mood to ask such silly questions. Even just looking at Ron's red hair made him think of Ginny and how she had told him that she hadn't felt anything in the train compartment just hours ago. It all made it even more dream-like. The more he thought about dreams, the heavier his eyelids became.  
  
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The next day was one of the most awkward Harry had encountered, running a close second to how he felt at Madam Puddifoot's when Cho burst into tears and stranded him by Roger Davies and his sweetheart du jour. Ginny sat on one side of the table with a piece of toast on her plate and her arms crossed, a disagreeable scowl littering her face. Hermione looked radiant, with her hair looking shiny and reflecting the light, her cheeks rosy, and an absolutely beaming smile. Ron was even looking pretty dapper himself, compared to his usual morning caveman look. Harry even suspected that they were holding hands beneath the table.  
  
Breakfast in the Great Hall reminded him of how glad he sometimes was that Ginny was in a younger year than them. He could suffer through his double potions and transfiguration with Slytherins so long as he didn't have to face her glare. Who would have thought that the boy who faced Voldemort and survived time after time could be so frightened of a sixteen year old girl. In fact, Potions seemed almost to be a relief after the staredown he had received while trying to enjoy nice bowl of porridge.  
  
Of course, once he was actually in potions, he seriously considered the thought that dealing with Ginny was much better. Snape had them brewing an extremely complicated potion that would alter facial features slightly, depending on the final ingredient added. Harry, as usual, skipped one line (adding the powdered root of Rangletain, he thought miserably) and caused his potion to turn a putrid shade of yellow. He hadn't done extraordinarily badly on his Potions O.W.L., so he it was hard to understand why he performed so badly down in the dungeons twice weekly. It had to be Snape.  
  
He had gotten no better since the incident at the ministry. In fact, he was using the fact that he needed to pretend to "have no outside relation" to Potter as an excuse to torture him every time he had the chance. Always calling on him to answer impossible questions, and then turning to Malfoy and having him arrogantly point out Potter's mistake. Harry could swear that the questions were pre-planned just to make sure that Harry was properly humiliated every time they met.   
  
As of September, Lucius Malfoy was still in Azkaban. Harry knew it was only a matter of time before they broke out and caused widespread chaos, but he was relishing in the thought that they were having a miserable time behind bars for the time being. He also loved the fact that Draco hadn't yet gotten over the fact that his worst enemy managed to outsmart his father and land him in jail, permanently damaging his reputation and ruining the Malfoy name. Again, Harry knew that one of these days the Malfoys were going to reciprocate the trouble he'd caused back on him, but he was busy basking in the pleasure of temporarily defeating his rival's family.  
  
On the way out of their transfiguration lesson, Harry finally decided to ask Ron what happened in the girls' dormitory the night before. Hermione had gone off to the library and left the two alone for some "guy time".   
  
"Oh, you know... We, er, talked," Ron said, the corners of him mouth turning up slightly.  
  
"Just talking? Well I'm certainly surprised," Harry replied, punching Ron in the arm.  
  
"Basically we just, you know, went at it for a little bit. The first time we did it properly and all" Ron's smirk had turned into a complete smile was he said the words.  
  
Harry thought for a brief instant about what it would have been like to kiss Ginny on the train the day before.   
  
"So what happened with you and Gin, man? She looked completely fumed at breakfast," Ron prodded as he headed up the stairs to the fat lady's portrait.  
  
"Oh nothing, just a little quarrel over quidditch, that's. You know how she feels about the Harpies". It was surprisingly easy to lie to Ron, and though it frightened Harry a little bit, it was more than slightly convenient on this occasion. "D'you want to go out on the pitch with me and toss the quaffle around a little bit?" Harry asked.   
  
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On the way in from the pitch, Harry saw McGonagall in the common room looking for him. His heart skipped a beat. Was she here for the reason he thought she was? His mouth salivated a little bit at the thought.  
  
"Potter, I need to talk to you," McGonagall said in her familiar affectionate bark. Harry couldn't even wipe the grin off his face when he caught her eye. He knew.  
  
"Yes, Professor?" he asked sweetly, trying to act like he was oblivious to what was coming.  
  
"Can I see you in my office for a moment?" Harry nodded and gave his broom to Ron to take upstairs. There seemed to be a little spring in his step as he walked down the corridor. He could hardly wait for her to get the keys in the door so they could sit down and make it official.   
  
Her office was barren with the exception of various House Cups and Quidditch Cups and the occasion certificate or merit on the wall. She sat down at her mahogany desk and gestured Harry to sit in one of the straight-backed wooden chairs. She shuffled some papers on her desk and fixed the brooch around her neck before looking up and beginning her announcement.  
  
"As you are aware, Mr. Potter, Angelina Johnson graduated last year," she began, "Leaving us without a captain and without a chaser..."  
  
"Don't you mean—"  
  
"Two chasers, Potter, if you'd let me finish. In any case, we need a new captain and we need to hold tryouts for the others," she continued with a slight look of annoyance on her face. Harry was trying hard to be on his best behavior, but it was hard to contain his excitement.  
  
"Since no one else on the team has as much experience as you or the desire to be captain, I've decided to let you have a chance at it. Keep in mind, however, that being the quidditch captain does not, under any circumstances provide an excuse to let your studies slip. Are we clear?" she asked.   
  
"Oh, absolutely McGon—I mean, Professor. I won't let you down," he said. Words were flying out of his mouth at a mile of minute and he no longer bothered trying to hold them back. It was his first time playing quidditch in two years, and now he was house captain! Professor McGonagall went on to continue the rules and responsibilities of the job, but he was too busy floating on a cloud to notice. The bit of information he picked up was that he was supposed to hold team tryouts the following Friday.  
  
He skipped out of her office punching the air and crying out to all the statues. He hadn't been this happy for a long time. 


	3. Quidditch Tryouts

A/N: I'm going to keep this brief, because lengthy author notes are boring as hell and no one really reads them unless they have much too much time on their hands. I'm writing one more chapter before I leave to go to the Hamptons for a week or so with my family. It will also give me some time to work on summer reading assignments and such so that when I get back, I can devote more of my time to this story . Thanks to the two reviewers who complimented me, I appreciate it more than I can say.

P.S: I stuck in a little cookie about Ron and Hermione. Have fun .

Nameless926 – Oh, absolutely. I 3 Alanis. I try to sneak her in there when possible.

Kwndnl – Thanks for sticking to the story and reviewing the second chapter.

Everyone who added me to their favorites list – Thank you SO much.

Disclaimer: JKR owns everything here. Duh.

Note: 's indicate a point of view change. If I try to do anything else, make a line out of underscores, etc… just rejects it. If anyone knows a way to solve this problem, PLEASE let me know.

Ginny looked at the notice board in the common room. It was the announcement of Harry's becoming a quidditch captain and also of the upcoming chaser tryouts. The news brought mixed feelings. She wanted to be happy for Harry, but was angry at him still for assuming her knew her feelings, like she was some uncomplicated child or anonymous fangirl. He was absolutely right about her feelings and that was what aggravated her the most. Was she that predictable? As for being chaser, she was nervous for tryouts but excited that it was finally her turn to shine. She knew she could work magic with a quaffle and broom.

She didn't act any more pleasantly toward him for the rest of the week during meals, and by the time tryouts rolled around, she still wasn't feeling any better about it. It wasn't that she didn't want to forgive him, but he wasn't showing any signs of remorse for how he reacted in the common room only a few days prior.

To make matters worse, Ron and Hermione were now an "official" couple, which would have been sweet if it didn't leave her alone with Harry all the time. They went off frolicking into dark corners of the corridors to sneak a kiss. It was very un-Hermione like, Ginny wanted to point out, but both of them were absolutely glowing and she didn't have the heart to say anything snide. It wasn't her place. Why should she care that her brother and one of her best friends were going out? It didn't change anything.

Well, except for the fact that she was hardly spending any time in the common room at night. Both she and Harry were nocturnal and thrived during the night, so they were often the last ones to sit by the fire in the late evening hours. Normally, Ginny didn't avoid confrontation or a challenge, but this just seemed like one that was completely hopeless.

In the meantime, she was having quite a lot of difficulty deciding what to do about Seamus. He was clearly very into Ginny, talking about arranging visits over the Christmas holiday, and her feels towards him were lukewarm. The thought of being together until December was almost nauseating. This was definitely not a good sign in a relationship: the thought of being with each other for more than a month causes one party to become ill.

While she wanted to break up to prevent her from leading him on, she also wanted to stay together because he was such a sure thing. He'd be faithful, mild tempered, and almost perfect for her. It was almost scary. She made up her mind to dump him within the next week.

**- & -**

Hermione looked into Ron's eyes and whispered something very quietly into his ear. He blushed and looked almost a little shocked before realizing that he was finally living out his fantasy. For years he had looked on at her, wishing he could have her, but never daring. He loved the way her hair looked when they sat and studied by the lake, glistening from the sun and the water's reflection. He loved the way she snorted just a little bit when she giggled at a joke from the twins. He even liked the way she never hesitated to call him out when he was wrong. Which was a lot of the time. He didn't love that, but he liked it.

Now she was sitting on his lap, whispering things into his ear and kissing him in the common room, and he was almost euphoric. The great thing was that they were already best friends so they didn't need to 'waste time' getting to know each other.

Ron had been so afraid to tell her. Harry had finally forced him to admit it one day after he had blubbered away two hours' worth of quidditch practice by analyzing whether or not Hermione had kissed Krum and whether or not they were only penpals. After arguing with himself for quite a while, Harry made him say out loud that he liked Hermione. It had terrified him since.

For some reason, it seemed horribly unlikely to Ron that Hermione could ever like him. After going to the yule ball with a world famous quidditch seeker, going out with Ron Weasley, a scrawny redhead who wore secondhand robes, seemed very unlikely. He obviously hadn't thought, or even looked, very hard about it because it was blatantly obvious in the way she quarreled and looked at Ron that she was head over heels.

Then, the night before term started, Ron and Hermione got into the biggest row in their short history. If you asked either of them today what that argument was about, they probably wouldn't be able to tell you. It was probably over quidditch, divination, or even the thickness of cauldrons—it didn't matter. They got into a horrible screaming match.

"Why do you have to do stupid shit like this, Hermione? Jesus!"

"Honestly, Ron can't you stop swearing for a moment and just see—"

"Just see what? There's nothing here!"

"Oh yes there is. I can't believe how childish you're acting!"

"How childish I'M acting? You're the one who's acting like a baby because she can't get her way!"

"I'm a baby? A BABY! Maybe I am, because I'm about to cry. Are you HAPPY now?"

Ron stopped shouting for a second and looked at Hermione, tears of anger forming in her eyes. He was about to yell when he stopped himself.

"You think I like fighting with you?" he asked earnestly.

"Well yes, I suppose I do," she said shakily, but still defiantly.

"I don't though."

"So why do you do it then? Huh?"

Ron paused for a moment, hesitating.

"I do it because… If we don't argue, I might tell you how much I love you. And the results of that could be a lot worse than some stupid fight over nothing."

Hermione's eyes became as wide as saucers. A mix of confusion and pure glee crossed her face.

"Say it again, Ron. Please."

"Which part? The part where we argue or the part where I tell you the feelings I've been hiding," he said with a tiny half smile.

The rest was their very short history. Neither of them could believe that the other had been feeling this way for years. It was pre-made bliss.

Now they kissed every chance they got and never took it for granted.

**- & -**

Ginny grabbed her secondhand Cleansweep. She had worked hard over the summer at Fortescue's to earn the money for it. It wasn't nearly the best broom on the planet, but it was better than anything her brothers had leftover.

She joined the procession of Gryffindors heading toward the pitch to either watch the tryouts or take part in them. Eleven girls with brooms, she counted, all trying out for chaser. They could theoretically be trying out for beaters, since Fred and George were gone, but she doubted that any of their petite frames could handle whacking the bludger.

The stands filled up quickly, speckling the stands with an array of scarlet and gold hats, scarves, and signs. The familiar rush of playing in front of a crowd flooded back to her. She wasn't a half bad seeker, but chaser was always her favorite position. She took a number and pinned it to her robes and waited to be called.

There were plenty of girls who were trying out for chaser none of which were particularly horrible, but not showing any aptitude in the position either. The only player that seemed to show any real skill with the quaffle was Alaina McCormack, a third year who was the granddaughter of the famed Pride of Portree chaser, Catriona McCormack. Ginny could feel in her bones that Alaina was going to make it, so that left only one spot open.

As for the search for beaters, Ginny had to admit that Seamus was really quite good. She hadn't even known he was trying out, but she should have guessed. Dean wasn't spectacular on his own, but when paired with Seamus, he really shone. All the others, including the Creevey brothers, paled in comparison.

Finally, number sixteen was called. Ginny's number. The Creeveys were set up as beaters, with Ginny in the chaser spot and Ron as the keeper. The Ravenclaw chasers had agreed to play the opposition so they could see how a chaser would react in an actual competition, rather than just shooting drills.

Ginny kicked off the ground, putting herself into 'quidditch mode'. When she was in the air, she forgot everything. She forgot that Harry was watching her intently, that Neville was holding a sign for her and Seamus, and the fact that it was beginning to rain quite hard.

Ignoring the rain drops attacking her, causing her red-gold hair to stick to her face and neck, and gained control of the quaffle. She sped up, zooming full speed to the opposing goal hoops. She was flanked on either side by a Ravenclaw chaser, but she did a backwards flip, allowing her drop just enough to be out of their reach. Finally, she chucked the quaffle as hard as she could. It zoomed through the left hoop. She raised her arms in triumph before getting focused again.

She repeated this process three times before Harry blew the whistle.

"That's enough," he called out. If Ginny didn't know better, she could have swore he was grinning.

When she returned to the ground, Seamus ran up and hugged her.

"You were fantastic, beautiful," he said breathlessly. His sandy hair was matted down to his forehead and he was dripping wet. Mud was caked all over the bottom of his jeans, but he was grinning ear to ear.

She was so happy she didn't care about how they looked. She kissed him and tightened her grip.

"You were fabulous, too! You're a sure thing," she replied. She wasn't lying. There were only two more people trying out, and they didn't look like they would be anything special.

She leaned her forehead against his and stared into his eyes. She thought maybe she could stay with him and be really, really happy like she was right now. She leaned in and started nibbling gntly on his bottom lip, just the way he liked it. Being with Seamus was so comfortable, so familiar.

They stood out in the rain and kissed for a long time. It was the first time in a long while she felt truly happy.

**- & -**

It only took Harry two hours to finalize his decision and post the results in the common room. It was pretty clear who was going to make it anyway. The list only confirmed it.

Ginny and Alaina took the two remaining chaser spots and Seamus and Dean were the new beaters. It was the first time in almost 50 years that the beaters weren't brothers, making the victory all the more sweet. There was a party in the common room with tons of food courtesy of the kitchens. Hermione, out of S.P.E.W. protest, didn't eat a bite. Except for the one pumpkin tart Ron fed her.

Ginny spent most of the evening curled up with Seamus by the fire. Things had never gone so well before. After such a spectacular night, how could she dump him?

"You seem different tonight," Seamus said, Irish accent as thick as ever.

"Really? I don't feel any different." Ginny knew he had been noticing her lack of "passion" lately.

"When we kissed in the rain, it seemed so different from normal. In a good way, I mean."

"Yeah, it did," Ginny agreed, "Thanks for being so good to me." She squeezed his hand. It was important to her that he knew that she meant every word. It was only then that she noticed that they were the only people left in the common room.

"I'm getting really tired," he said, "So I think I'll just hit the sack, ok?"

She loved how he asked her what she thought. She just smiled at him, and he turned to go up the stairs.

Ginny looked into the fire, thinking. As usual. It felt like all she ever did these days was analyze everything, and she was really sick of it. She felt her eyelids getting heavier and heavier. She began to dream about quidditch, sweets, and other things…

"Ginny?" A male voice inquired, gently nudging her shoulder.

"Not yet Seamus, just another minute," she mumbled.

"C'mon, you're sleeping in the common room. I'd carry you to your room, but I can't get up those blasted stairs." Ginny's eyes fluttered open.

"Harry!" she said in surprise. She wasn't sure why she was surprised, but she was.

"Yes, that's my name," he said, grinning, "I was just coming down here to get a book I'd forgotten, and I saw you sleeping here. You'll get a nasty neck ache in the morning if you sleep in one of the armchairs all night."

"Oh," she said standing up, "Thank you. And thanks for making me chaser. It means a lot to me."

"Er, how could I not make you chaser? You were amazing," he said as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.

Ginny blushed. "I'm sorry about the other night."

He didn't say anything. "Why don't we just forget about it?" Ginny nodded.

"You looked pretty comfortable with Finnigan on the pitch before," he started again.

"Why shouldn't I? We're going out, remember?" She knew quite well that he remembered, she just wanted to hear his motives.

Harry looked away for a minute. "Well I'm glad things are going so well," he said. It came out a little too quickly. All at once, the room felt too small for the both of them.

"Well, um, thanks for waking me up. I guess I'll see you… um, tomorrow," Ginny blurted as she turned to leave.

"Goodnight," he called.

She didn't reply.


End file.
